


the stars collide as the planets turn

by flashlightinacave



Category: Never Have I Ever (TV)
Genre: Angst, Banter, Bickering, Developing Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Mutual Pining, POV Alternating, Pining, hang the dj au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:01:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27014701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flashlightinacave/pseuds/flashlightinacave
Summary: Ben chuckles. “Coach can really operate in extremes, huh? Us or surface-level relationships.”Devi cocks her head, still smirking. “Speak for yourself, Gross. I’m a goddamn catch for anyone who matches with me.”Ben mirrors her smirk with one of his own. “So by that logic, I must be pretty special to get you twice.”Devi peers up at him through her eyelashes, and he can see the golden dusting of her eye makeup. It makes her look celestial. Her voice drops to a low murmur. “Most people aren’t dumb enough to let me go the first time.”or; Devi and Ben in "Hang The DJ"
Relationships: Ben Gross/Devi Vishwakumar
Comments: 24
Kudos: 71





	the stars collide as the planets turn

**Author's Note:**

> Y'all...
> 
> I'm... not certain where this idea came from, but once it came to me, it wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it, so thank god I had a week off from school for reading week.
> 
> A couple of things:
> 
>   * This fic is loosely (emphasis on loosely) based on the Black Mirror episode Hang The DJ, but you definitely don't have to know anything about the episode to enjoy this fic. Furthermore, I'm not a fan of AUs where people take TV shows and films and put characters of choice into them, so that's not what this is, I more just took the technology and the set up of the world in that episode and used that to mold this fic. If you've seen the episode, you'll recognize the little bits I lifted.
>   * This is definitely the fastest I've ever written a fic of this length (I wrote it in 4 days)... which totally doesn't sound impressive at all, but since I've been very busy with school (we are unsurprised, but in STEM they make you work HARD) and I usually haven't been able to write more than a couple hundred words at a time, I'm impressed with myself. Of course, since I did write this more quickly, it's important for me to note that any mistakes are mine and mine only.
>   * I leaned a little away from some of the poetic language you all might be familiar with in my fics, and leaned more heavily into the banter, mostly because writing poetic metaphors though fun is definitely taxing, whereas writing banter for Devi and Ben is honestly one of my favourite things to do.
>   * This fic BARELY deserves the mature rating, but I gave it one just to be safe.
>   * Title comes from the MARINA song "End of the Earth" 
> All of that being said, I really, really hope you guys enjoy this fic, I've been working hard on it!


She hasn't gotten used to the weight of it yet.

It's really not that heavy, and it's easy for her to carry around in her purse, but it—it's _strange,_ carrying around this smooth circular device that seems to know everything about her. It's her first time in the system, and she's unspeakably nervous, and the weight of the thing—Coach, she reminds herself, isn't exactly helping. 

Her nerves are only compounded when she walks into the restaurant and realizes she has _no_ idea what her date looks like. She's already off to a great fucking start, isn't she?

“Coach,” she says—and it still feels weird talking to a device, a piece of technology of all things. “Where do I go?”

“Proceed to the hostess,” Coach answers back immediately, robotically.

Devi nods her head, she thinks she ought to feel self-conscious in her confusion, but she’s seen plenty of other people speak to Coach before. It’s not _that_ unusual.

“Right,” she answers, pulling in a deep breath and letting it out to steady herself.

She makes her way up to the hostess. “Hi, I’m Devi. Devi Vishwakumar.”

The woman, tapping away at a screen, doesn’t answer her, she just gestures towards an empty booth. Devi thanks her, walks over and takes a seat.

She’s starting to get the hang of Coach, but she’s a bit early for this date, so she might as well spend her time familiarizing herself with the device.

A few minutes later, her attention is torn away from Coach by a somewhat gruff voice.

“David?”

She doesn’t know why the blatantly incorrect name makes her so immediately, violently angry, but it does.

Devi snaps her head up, meeting eyes like the Atlantic, bluer than she’s ever seen. The ocean is his eyes doesn’t wash away her anger though, it only pulses through her more intensely. “Excuse me?” she bites out.

The man standing before her table looks nervous and reaches up to rub the back of his neck. She almost feels bad for him. _Almost._ “The hostess said your name was David. Is that not right?”

Devi scowls and crosses her arms tight over her chest. “Do I _look_ like my name is David?”

“Not really, n—”

“It’s Devi,” she snaps. “D - E - V - I," she spells out, counting each letter on a finger for emphasis. “Devi Vishwakumar. Who the fuck are you?”

“I’m Ben,” he answers. “Ben Gross.”

Devi rolls her eyes. “Of course, you fucking look like a Ben.” 

Ben finally takes the seat across from her at the table. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Please,” Devi scoffs. “The kakis? The overly tight fitted shirt? The overuse of hair gel?” She props her chin up on her hands and rests her elbows on the table because he seems like the type of guy who’d be annoyed by that sort of display. (He’s already pissed her off, so pissing him off in return only seems fair.) “You look like the type of guy who raises your hand and says ‘not to play devil’s advocate,’ and who uses proper punctuation while texting, and who thinks Popeye’s spicy chicken is actually spicy.”

“Wow,” Ben drawls. “You really think you got me all figured out.”

Devi smirks. Well, I do, don’t I?”

“Believe it or not, David—”

“Devi.”

“Believe it or not _David_ ,” he snears, putting specific emphasis on the so clearly incorrect name. “There’s more to me than that.”

This entire conversation makes her blood boil in a way that’s far from intoxicating, and Devi kind of wants to punch this asshole—Ben, she reminds herself, in the throat, she just knows that’s not her sharpest idea, especially since this is her first time using the system. “Feel free to elaborate, Gross.”

“Well, I graduated from Yale, for starters.”

“Of fucking course,” Devi murmurs rolling her eyes.

“Cum laude,” Ben says, jabbing the table with his pointer finger. “Not like someone with your limited brain capacity would know what that means.”

“Well, I graduated from Princeton,” Devi says, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “ _Summa_ cum laude.”

Ben murmurs something—something scathing, she assumes—under his breath.

“You know I can see you, right?” Devi asks, arching an eyebrow.

“It doesn’t matter,” he says shaking his head.

Devi finds it impossible to not disagree. Clearly he said _something_ , and she wants to know what it is. “It does now, so fucking spit it out.”

“I was saying, of course I got matched with someone like you,” Ben says. “The system wanted to get the difficult part out of the way first, determine who I was really incompatible with.”

“Well, at least I’m getting the worst possible person out of the way first,” Devi grumbles at the same time.

The burning fire in Ben’s eyes melts away for a moment, softening into the lapping gentle waves of a tidepool. “Wait… it’s your first time using the system too?”

His eyes on hers do nothing, however, to extinguish the flaming anger pumping through her. “Too?!” Devi practically shrieks. “I can’t believe the system paired me with another first-timer, no wonder you’re awful at this.”

The fire in his eyes returns, somehow more intense than before, a brighter, hotter, fiercer, blue. “You’re one to talk.”

“The first thing you did was call me the wrong name, asshole!”

“I apologized!” Ben buries his head in his hands, fingers raking through his hair. “Dear fucking god,” he groans. “I cannot believe my luck.”

“You can’t believe your luck?”

Ben’s mouth opens, as if he means to say something, and then he promptly shuts it.

“Look,” Devi sighs. “Let’s just rip the bandaid off and check the expiry date.”

She’s pretty certain she hears Ben cursing under his breath as he pulls Coach from his blazer pocket. “Fine.” She watches him swipe at the device. “3, 2, 1.” He presses the button of his device before Devi can press hers.

Devi balls her hands into fists. “We’re supposed to check at the same time,” she grits out.

Ben completely ignores her, eyes focused on Coach. “12 hours,” he mutters.

Devi doesn’t believe him at first and waits for the revelation that she’ll be stuck with this asshole for far, far longer, but never comes.

She looks down and breathes a sigh of relief, the timer already beginning to count down, at least the system isn’t playing any more cruel tricks on her tonight. 

They say it in unison.“Thank fucking god.”

It’s the first thing she and Ben have agreed on all night.

* * *

Dinner is a tense affair.

This woman—Devi, though Ben can’t help pushing her buttons by calling her David—might just be the death of him.

In a completely literal sense, she’s been glaring daggers at him all night and at one point he catches her twirling her fork in her hand, something intense and dangerous in her eyes. She’s studying him like an anatomical specimen, as if she’s trying to decide the best place to make a killing blow.

(It’s the jugular, obviously, Ben knows that.)

Okay fine, maybe thinking his date is going to murder him is a bit extreme, but he can already tell from the way the entire evening has progressed that she’s quite the hothead.

Perhaps Devi’s hotheadedness is why they’re in the situation they’re in right now, arguing about sleeping arrangements.

The accommodation they’re assigned for their remaining 11 hours together is spacious, lined with luxury furniture, and a little too good to be true.

 _A lot_ too good to be true, actually. That’s Ben’s justification for why there’s only one bed. It’s a king, he thinks, two pillows on each side and covered in a purple quilt that’s almost _regal_. “One bed,” Ben says gesturing towards it.

Devi’s immediate response is a scowl. “You think I didn’t notice that?”

“Obviously, I know you did,” he bites back forcing equal venom into his tone. He begins to nervously fidget with his hands. “I guess it’s because we’re supposed to—you know—” He makes a crude gesture with his hands.

Devi lets out a weird hybrid between a laugh and scoff. “In your dreams.”

Ben takes a step towards her, encroaching upon her personal space. He lowers his voice and smirks. “With a body like mine, you’d be the one dreaming.”

For a moment, he swears he hears her breath hitch and thinks she might be about to take his challenge very, very literally. She peers up at him through her exceptionally long eyelashes as if she’s actually considering it, but then she wrinkles her nose and steps away from him. “Disgusting. Absolutely disgusting.”

“It’s not like I exactly want to have sex with you either, David,” Ben retorts, in what he already knows is a failed attempt to gain the upper hand.

Devi rolls her eyes. “Please, you’d be lucky to experience my passion. She smirks. “I’m an amazing lover.”

Ben finds his eyes drawn towards her lips, but then immediately tears his gaze away. She is very attractive, that’s impossible to deny, and if she didn't have the personality of a hyena, she’d likely be an ideal first match.

“Hmm,” Ben hums, stepping in closer than before, and to his surprise, Devi doesn’t step back. “Too bad you’re not willing to prove it.”

She leans in even closer crossing her arms tightly over her chest. “I thought you said you didn’t _want_ to have sex with me.”

“I don’t, obviously,” Ben shoots back, running a hand through his hair. “I just think without evidence you make a rather poor argument.”

Devi quirks an eyebrow. “You want me to provide evidence?”

_Is she propositioning him?_

Ben swallows, then cocks his head, running his tongue over his lips. “All the best claims are sufficiently backed.”

Devi leans in even closer. “You couldn’t handle me,” she whispers.

The cadence of her voice stirs something deep in his gut. For a brief moment, Ben is so tempted to just kiss her, to pin her to the bed, and prove that yes, _yes_ , he absolutely could handle her and, as a matter of fact, she’s the one who couldn’t handle him.

And then the moment shatters when Devi steps back putting a larger distance between them. “We’re not sharing the bed either. With my luck, you probably snore, _loudly_.”

“I do not snore,” Ben protests.

“Yeah,” Devi says sarcastically. “Sure you don’t.”

He seriously _cannot_ believe this is his first date, but he has to have faith in the system. Statistically, one can never be 100% sure, so 99.8%—the idea of someone being 99.8% compatible with him—is as good as it gets. With any luck, the system is just trying to determine who he’s least compatible with and will only give him better matches from beyond with one.

(It has to, right?)

Regardless, he’s got to survive this date first. “Believe me, David, I don’t want to share the bed with you either, you seem you’d kick me in your sleep and hog all the blankets.”

Devi’s mouth drops open in offense. “I would _not_.”

“Can’t say I’m willing to find out.” He rubs the back of his neck, slightly sheepishly. “Look, I can take the couch and you can have the bed.”

“I’m sorry,” Devi laughs mockingly. “Why the fuck would you take the couch?”

Ben feels his lips curl up into a smirk. “Because I’m a gentleman.”

He notices Devi’s eyes flick to his mouth. He likes that he knows he’s affecting her the exact same way she’s affecting him. “More like a barbarian,” Devi mutters under her breath.

“Barbarian, how?”

“The offer is rather neanderthalic, Gross.”

“Humans aren't even descended from neanderthals!” Ben argues.

Devi’s responding smirk mirrors his own. “Not according to the multiregional hypothesis, I’m not surprised you’re lacking in brain cells.”

Ben opens his mouth to bite out a witty retort about how she’s obviously the one deficient in brain cells, when the fight drains out of him. “Whatever,” he scoffs. “I’m sleeping on the couch and that’s final.”

Devi glowers at him. “That’s backwards patriarchal bullshit.”

“W—what? How?”

“That you, a gentleman,” she says putting the word gentleman in air quotes, “has to make a sacrifice for me, a lady.”

His mouth drops open and it just _baffles_ him that Devi has the ability to infuriate him in so few words. He glances at Coach, just ten and half more hours, he can do this.

“Well, at least _one_ of us has to have manners, considering you have the disposition of a cactus," Ben grumbles.

“A cactus?” she shrieks.

“We can flip a coin. Heads I get the couch, tails you do.”

“Fine,” Devi agrees, though from the acidity in her voice, he can tell she’d rather do anything else. “I’m assuming you have a coin?”

“Obviously.” He pulls a quarter from the pocket of his blazer.

“I bet it’s fucking rigged,” Devi sneers. 

Ben lets out a long weary sigh. “Not rigged,” he promises. She takes the coin from him and his pulse jumps when their fingers brush. She inspects the coin and when she finally seems convinced hands it back to him. 

“Well, then, what are you waiting for? Flip it.”

Ben flips the coin and there’s a moment of tense anticipation, the air between them crackling with something explosive.

(That's the thing about this whole—adventure, for lack of a better word. It's been explosive, and Ben's never found himself more irritated—or challenged, his brain reminds him—by someone else before.)

He finally looks at the coin. “Heads.”

“God fucking dammnit.”

* * *

The next morning, Devi taps her foot impatiently as she stares at Coach, watching the seconds tick away. 

She finds herself looking at Ben again, hopefully for the final time.

He could have been a good first match—he’s objectively attractive with a prominent jawline and eyes more strikingly, brilliantly, luminously blue than anything she’s ever seen— _if_ he hadn’t been so incredibly antagonistic. The logical, rational part of Devi’s brain supplies that she was the one to start the antagonism, but by that same logic, Ben didn’t have to _continue_ it, so either way Devi knows she’s right.

The second the timer hits zero, she’s stalking away, hissing at Coach that she better never see this guy again.

* * *

When Devi meets him, she’s convinced Paxton’s the one.

At first, she’s convinced she’s fucking up their date, but to her pleasant surprise, he seems completely endeared by her. He makes her laugh, he’s easy enough to talk to, and Devi thinks he might be the hottest person she’s ever met. She’s delighted by the prospect of spending 7 months with him.

The sex, of course, is amazing, too.

Things with Paxton are amazing at first, and with him, she’s in a constant state of euphoria. It's distressingly easy. She doesn't feel the need to do much else other than just...exist, losing herself in the way he touches her, the curve of his smile, and the softness of his hair. It's easy, simple, _uncomplicated._

(For someone like Devi, easy is what she needs. Paxton doesn't drive her up the wall, doesn't fight with her on her judgements, and it's refreshing. At first.) 

But the problem is, she soon realizes, is that they don't really _talk._ About like, anything. It’s pretty hard to with how little they have in common.

She comes to the realization that though physically her relationship with Paxton is perfect, they have no emotional connection, the most important component for a long-lasting relationship.

So quickly, she grows bored. 

Ridiculously bored.

And the more bored she grows, the less physical pleasure she takes from her relationship with Paxton too. The once earth-shattering sex becomes… unsatisfying and she finds herself beginning to count down the months they have left together.

And sometimes, when she’s in the height of her boredom, sometimes when she lies in bed, Paxton fast asleep next to her, Devi thinks about her first date.

She may not have liked Ben—she hated him, she really did—but at least she was never bored. He kept her on her toes, every insult, every quip was immediately countered with one of his own. It was like an ongoing ping pong match, where she was forced to always be on top of her game. He was interesting and she wasn't bored for a single second of that night. And when her only point of comparison is the suffocating boredom she’s feeling now, shockingly—or it should be shockingly, but it’s not, if she’s being honest—she thinks she might have preferred Ben. 

When she and Paxton finally part at the end of the seven months, Devi breathes a sigh of relief. 

It's ironic, she thinks, rather wryly, in the end, it was boredom that had done her in. She hopes Coach pairs her with someone a bit more interesting next, cause if not, she might not make it to her final match.

God knows her patience wouldn’t last that long.

* * *

As Ben sits at the table waiting for his date to arrive, he can’t quite suppress his nerves. Sure, he’s been on a couple of these dates now, but he always finds he’s full of the same amount of nervous anticipation as the first, before that had gone spectacularly downhill.

Then, in walks the person he thought he’d never see again—but sort of hoped he would—wearing a long, elegant red dress.

The thing about Devi is this, his date with her may have been terrible, but it was memorable. She is memorable.

They make eye contact for a long intense moment before Devi breaks the silence. She doesn't speak to him though, she speaks to Coach. “Is this for real?”

“Match confirmed,” Coach answers automatically.

Devi stares at Ben for a moment, before she finally slides into the seat across from him. 

“Ben.”

“David.”

She scowls at him, but he doesn’t miss the way her lips tilt up a small fraction only seconds before. Her anger is definitely a pretense.

Devi chews on her bottom lip. “I—uh—I didn’t know the system ever paired people more than once.”

“Me either,” Ben admits, clasping his hands together and resting them on the table.

There’s a moment of silence, a beat. Ben’s never quite understood the importance of a beat in a script or story before, but he thinks he understands it now, it gives what happens next more weight, more meaning.

She clears her throat. “I really can’t believe I’m saying this, but it’s…” She lets out a deep breath. “It’s shockingly nice to see you again.”

He quirks an eyebrow. “Shockingly?”

“Oh, you know what I mean.”

Ben drums his fingers on the table and cocks his head. “See, I don’t think I do. You might have to explain it to me.”

“Ben.”

“Devi.”

(When he uses her real name, her face softens, just the slightest bit, and he's struck, once more, by how pretty she is, mesmerizing and captivating and a million other similar synonyms, like a comet, streaking across the sky. She is all-consuming in her beauty.)

Devi narrows her eyes at him. “You were a total dick when we first met.”

Ben scoffs. “Well, you weren’t exactly a ray of sunshine.”

“I was a goddamn delight!” Devi protests, but he can tell she’s having an even harder time biting back a smile. “You’re the one who butchered my name.”

“I apologized multiple times, _David_. You’re the one who acted weirdly hosti—” He cuts himself off. “Wait, are we really arguing about which one of us was worse that night?”

Devi laughs at that, bright and clear. “I suppose we are.”

Ben can’t help it, her laughter is infectious and he finds himself laughing too. “Oh my god, we’re ridiculous.”

Devi tosses her hair over her shoulder in a singular, fluid, alluring motion. “You’re ridiculous, I’m amazing.” She flashes him a grin.

(Her smile punches him in the gut, wide and bright and _beautiful._ He wonders, if maybe he hadn't been such an asshole that night, would he have gotten— 

No. There's no point in dwelling on the past, the things they can't change. The important thing is that they're here now.)

He can’t help but think that this second date with Devi is the polar opposite of their first, but he knows it’ll be memorable all the same. He clears his throat. “It’s nice to see you too.”

Devi raises an eyebrow. “Shockingly nice?” 

Ben lets out a deep breath. “No, not shockingly, just nice.”

Her answering smile is the most winning and rewarding thing he’s seen.

“So tell me,” she starts, “who have you spent the past year with?”

Ben winces, thinking back on the past year. “One person.”

Devi glances at him sympathetically. “That bad, huh?”

Ben lets out a bitter, brittle laugh. “Her name was Shira and she was the most self-absorbed person I’ve ever met.”

She smirks. “You’re pretty self-absorbed too, you know?”

Ben glares at her. “Not funny.”

Her smirk blooms wider. “You are though.”

Ben sighs and taps his glass. “It was just…” He pauses trying to find the right word. “It was all very surface level with her, shallow.”

The waiter comes up and sets plates of food in front of them.

Devi snorts. “I’m with you on the shallow part. I spent 7 months with Paxton Hall-Yoshida and it was perfect at first… until I realized we had nothing in common.” She drums her fingers on the table. “If I’m ever that bored again, I won’t make it to my ultimate match, I’ll climb over the wall before I meet them.”

“I’d join you,” Ben says. “Change would be nice.”

Devi shakes her head. “No can do. It’d be a solo operation.”

Ben chuckles. “Coach can really operate in extremes, huh? Us or surface-level relationships.”

Devi cocks her head, still smirking. “Speak for yourself, Gross. I’m a goddamn catch for anyone who matches with me.”

Ben mirrors her smirk with one of his own. “So by that logic, I must be pretty special to get you twice.”

Devi peers up at him through her eyelashes, and he can see the golden dusting of her eye makeup. It makes her look celestial. Her voice drops to a low murmur. “Most people aren’t dumb enough to let me go the first time.”

“Maybe,” Ben suggests. “We should check the expiry date and see how much longer we have before I have to let you go this time.”

Devi pulls Coach out of her pocket and sets it on the table. “That’s probably the only good suggestion you’ve ever given.”

“Hey!”

Devi barks out a laugh. “Okay.” She swipes at her device finding the screen with the expiry date. “Are you ready?” she asks.

Ben nods, hovering his finger over the button.

“3, 2, 1, go!” She presses the button on Coach before Ben is anywhere near ready to press his.

“David,” he hisses. “We’re supposed to check at the same time.”

“Consider it payback, Gross.”

He finally looks down at Coach. “12 hours,” he murmurs. “Same as last time.” He ignores the sinking feeling in his stomach, only 12 hours when they’re finally starting to get along. “Maybe we should eat quickly?” 

“I bet I can finish my dinner faster,” Devi challenges, her eyes glinting.

“Hmm,” Ben hums, tapping his chin. “What are your terms?”

“Loser has to make breakfast tomorrow morning?” Devi suggests.

Ben grins, slightly wolfish. “You’re on, David.”

(She wins, just barely, but he finds he doesn’t mind all that much.)

* * *

Devi expects this date to go like her previous one with Ben—minus the temper—but instead of heading straight to their cabin, he manages to convince her to come with him. 

The only thing is, she’s not exactly sure _where_.

And when Ben gestures to a random patch of grass in the middle of nowhere and tells her to sit down, she quickly realizes he doesn’t exactly have _a where_ in mind either.

“You dragged us out into the middle of nowhere?” Devi asks, placing a hand on her hip.

“Not quite the middle of nowhere.” He flashes a grin at her, bright, wide, and beautiful. Even before she liked Ben, she liked his smile. “Do you trust me?”

Devi shakes her head. “Not even a little.”

“You’re supposed to say yes, David.”

Devi rolls her eyes. “Why would I say yes if it isn’t true?”

“You’re supposed to becau—” He cuts himself off. “You know what? Nevermind.” Ben sits down on the grass and pats the spot next to him. “Just sit down.”

She grumbles and then sits down, decidedly ignoring the way her breath hitches when their thighs brush.

She watches Ben tip his head up, turning his eyes towards the stars.

That’s one thing she likes about the system, the stars. There’s never any light pollution and they’re completely visible to the unaided eye.

The moment of silence that passes between them is tranquil, peaceful, until Ben breaks it.

His tone is oddly reverent. “The constellations sure are pretty, right?”

Devi shakes her head. “I never quite understood how people got all those patterns out of the stars.”

“Well,” Ben says, “People will believe anything when they need something to believe in. It’s kind of amazing, don’t you think?”

She snorts. “They’re just _stars_ , Ben. Just giant balls of gas fusing hydrogen into helium. Nothing whimsical about that.”

“How romantic,” Ben says, voice laced with sarcasm.

Devi scoffs. “Am I supposed to be romantic right now?”

Ben turns to her, and even though she’s looking at the sky rather than him, she can still feel the weight of his gaze. “Well, I don’t know Devi, last I checked we are on a date.”

“They may not be whimsical, but they sure are interesting. Particularly with how they die.”

“Go on,” Ben encourages.

Devi turns to him finally meeting his eyes, ethereally blue. “You really want me to talk about star death, right now?”

Ben laughs and the sound makes her feel… unusually warm. “Whatever you want to talk about.”

“The largest brightest stars are the most interesting,” she starts, “because while stars the size of our sun are only hot enough to fuse hydrogen into helium, and helium into carbon, larger stars can fuse heavier elements.”

“So tell me what happens,” Ben murmurs.

Devi knows it’s performative, she’s certain Ben knows this stuff, but if he’s willing to let her talk, rather than talking himself, she’s not going to waste the opportunity.

She clears her throat. “Large stars continue to fuse heavier and heavier elements, growing hotter, and brighter, and more luminous, until they start producing iron and once the star hits that…” She laughs. “For lack of a better term, it’s kind of fucked.”

“Why is that?”

Devi tips her head back towards the sky. “Iron weighs less than any other combination of protons and neutrons, and since the entire point of fusion is to produce energy to hold the star up against gravity, an iron core can’t do that.”

She feels his hand brush hers, his fingers warm against her own. “What happens next?”

She doesn’t pull her hand away, but she doesn’t link her fingers with his either, instead, she forces herself to keep talking. “Well, gravity makes the star collapse creating a special quantum mechanical effect called degenerate neutron pressure where electrons and protons are converted to neutrons.” Her breathing quickens when she feels Ben’s fingers flexing over hers. “The core collapse often overshoots, and the star rebounds by throwing off its outer shell in a massive explosion: a supernova.”

Suddenly, feeling a little bolder, a little braver, she curls her fingers around his and squeezes tight.

“What about black holes?” he asks.

Devi quirks an eyebrow. “What about them?”

“Some massive stars become black holes when they die, don’t they?”

“They do,” she confirms. “But you need to understand escape speed to understand that, the speed required—”

“By an object to escape the pull of its own gravity,” Ben finishes. “I know, Devi.” He squeezes her hand back.

Her heart is pounding rapid-fire fast and Devi takes in a deep breath. “More compact objects,” she continues, “have higher escape speeds, and black holes are formed when an object's escape speed reaches the speed of light.” She turns back to him, smirking. “Way more fascinating than just constellations, don’t you think?”

Ben tosses his head back and forth. “Tentatively.”

“Tentatively?” Devi repeats.

She notices his smirk and swats him in the arm. “Oh my god, you’re just saying that to piss me off, aren’t you?”

He laughs and raises his hands in defense. “You got me.”

Devi wacks him in the arm again. “Asshole!” she retorts, but the words have no bite, her voice is only filled with mirth.

She rests her head on his shoulder and feels Ben’s arm wrap around her waist. She stiffens a bit at the contact and he freezes.

“This okay?” he murmurs, lips brushing against her hair.

“Yeah,” Devi answers, immediately melting into his touch. “More than okay.”

* * *

Ben isn’t surprised when this time when their cabin has only one bed.

“I can take the couch,” he offers.

Devi gives him a confused look, and he worries she might yell at him again—like on their first date. Then, she laughs, uncompromised and unrestrained. “Don’t be silly, it’s huge, we can share it.”

They start off the night on opposite ends of the bed, of course, but Ben isn’t surprised when he opens his eyes the next morning and finds Devi pressed against him. Her nose is tucked into the skin underneath his jaw, inexplicably cold, but her arm is slung over his waist, warm against his hip.

It’s freezing when he shifts, cold everywhere but her, so he moves closer to her instinctively, like a sunflower searching for the light.

Devi murmurs something incomprehensible in her sleep, clutching him when he tries to pull away, so he doesn’t. Instead, his thumb traces circles on her hip, absentmindedly, while he waits for her to wake up.

He already knew she was beautiful, but she’s even more beautiful like this, body relaxed with sleep, free of stress, and seeming completely at peace.

Ben thinks, for a brief moment, about leaning down and pressing his lips to her forehead, about breathing her in, slow and soft, about taking his time, and then, suddenly, he cannot think of anything else.

He strokes his thumb against her cheek, relishing the feeling of her soft skin under his fingertips.

Before long, his eyes are fluttering shut again and he’s falling back into blissful slumber.

* * *

Devi isn’t surprised to wake up the next morning, with her body tucked into Ben’s. 

What she is surprised by, however, is that she doesn’t mind at all. 

Her instinctive reaction is not to pull away, or put distance between them, but rather to burrow in closer, to chase more of his warmth.

But of course, all things must end eventually, and this time with Ben has a limit, so an hour later, she finds herself standing, a few feet away from him, outside their cabin.

It’s the quite opposite of every other time she’s been here, wanting the timer to hit zero, waiting until she’s finally free. She isn’t quite sure she wants to leave Ben at all.

She turns to him. “Hey,” she says, hoping to get his attention. 

Then suddenly his eyes are on her and his face changes into a special soft smile, and she forgets what she wanted to say.

Devi clears her throat as she tries to find her words. “Have you—uh—have you ever heard of people being paired more than once?”

Ben purses her lips, contemplating her question. “Just a few times,” he finally answers, before letting out a wry laugh. “Makes you question how perfect the system is, doesn’t it? If it couldn’t get it right the first time?”

Devi turns away from him and looks back at Coach, the time continuing to count down. She traces her thumb over the numbers on the screen. “Lots of things aren’t good the first time.” Then, she looks back up at Ben and smiles gently. “That doesn’t mean they won’t end up being good.”

* * *

There are a lot of matches after his second date with Devi.

He spends a good 5 days with a woman named Riley Johnson, 36 hours with a girl named Hannah, a week with someone named Nadine.

Eventually they all blur together.

It’s funny because he spends far more time with each of these matches than he and Devi have spent together, but they don’t linger. Not the way Devi does, at least. Devi remains in his thoughts, in his memories, her laughter in the air like the opening chords of his favourite piece of music.

He can’t help but compare everything his other matches do to her.

None of them are anything like her.

None of them have the same passionate spark she had, the same willingness and eagerness to challenge him. None of them have the same capacity to light a fire in him.

(He needs someone who challenges him.)

As all his other matches blur together, becoming a meaningless string of flings, he remembers his time with Devi with perfect clarity. His short memories with her are like flowers in a meadow. Not all that brilliant, not all that eye-catching, but impossible to miss once they’re noticed, and so, so special. 

He doesn't know why she's in his thoughts so much, why she won't seem to leave. 

(That's not true, he does know, but knowing why means confronting something, something he’s not quite ready for.) 

But the system doesn't pair people up more than twice. He's never heard of someone getting a _third_ chance. 

So he sighs, props his chin upon his hand, and tries to make an effort listening to his current date talk.

It's not like he's ever gonna see her again.

* * *

Devi’s getting tired of these dates.

She’s been matched with more meaningless flings than she can count, and she’s surprised she hasn’t given in to her temptation to climb over the wall yet. Boredom, she’s decided, might just be her worst nightmare.

Every date is the same, she shows up to the restaurant, makes painful, meaningless small talk, heads back with them to their cabin, sleeps with them, and she can’t stop thinking about Ben.

(It’s unfair how she can’t get him out of her head, like ridiculously unfair. It’s unfair how every time she fucks someone else—their hands digging so hard into her hips they leave bruises—she wishes it was him.)

It’s only when she walks into the restaurant and spots her usual booth, she realizes she doesn’t have to think anymore.

He’s right there.

The grin that spreads across her face is embarrassingly wide as she makes her way over to him.

He stands up as she approaches, smile matching her own, and before Devi even registers what she’s doing, she’s throwing her arms around him.

To her relief, Ben hugs her back, pressing her closer to him. “Missed me, David?” he murmurs.

She tucks her face into his neck and breathes him in. “Shut up, asshole.”

He laughs, a soft, quiet chuckle right next to her ear, breath warm against her cheek, arms tightening around her.

The clearest parts of this whole world are the moments where she's with Ben, and she knows it's stupid to hope, to hope, to hope for more, but she can't help herself. She does it anyway.

Eventually, regretfully, she lets him go and slides into her seat.

Ben sits down across from her and she leans forward slightly in her seat. "Apparently when Coach gets bored, it throws us back together, huh?" 

“Please,” he drawls. “You know it knows your thoughts and desires and feelings and all of that shit." He smirks and his eyes twinkle. “So I'm assuming you've been thinking about me a lot."

Devi drums her fingers against the table. "By that logic, clearly, you must be thinking about me a lot too."

He tosses his head back and forth. “That doesn’t sound like denial to me.”

She props her chin upon her hand. “I’m not hearing any denial on your end either.”

“Hmm,” Ben hums. “Maybe that’s because I’m not denying it.”

Devi smirks. “I’m not surprised, I always knew you were obsessed with me.”

“No more than you are with me,” Ben says, with a matching cocky smirk.

Devi contemplates the thought for a second—she knows he will probably so smug, so, so inordinately smug—but says the words anyway, her voice coming out low and quiet. “Not no.”

Ben raises an eyebrow. “Not no?”

Devi simply tilts her head, she knows he’s smart, she’s just got to wait for him to figure it out. 

“Oh,” he finally says. He seems a little shocked, but he’s smiling all the same.

Devi giggles. “Yeah, oh,” she repeats.

His hand is resting on the table, and Devi kind of wants to link her fingers with his again.

Instead, she pulls Coach out of her pocket. “So, shall we check the expiry date? Gotta make the most of these 12 hours, right?”

It’s logical to assume that she and Ben will only be together for 12 hours. She knows Coach is systematic, and 12 hour dates with Ben seem to have become a pattern.

(Though, to be fair, she’s never heard of people being matched three times before, so maybe they’re not a pattern at all, but rather an anomaly.)

She ignores the sinking feeling in her gut, the way her heart twists in her chest, at only spending so little time with him, and then being paired again, and again, and again with meaningless, boring flings.

What’s the point in having the system make a decision for her when she finally feels she’s capable of making one herself?

She used to think the idea of meeting someone, of being forced to pursue a connection on her own, was needless work, but when she looks at Ben, well, when she looks at him, she thinks she might just be willing to try.

She just needs to know how long she has to try is all.

Ben frowns for a split second, before plastering on what she knows is a tight-lipped, forced smile. “Yeah,” he agrees. “Yeah, we should.”

Devi swipes to the expiry date screen on Coach and hovers her finger over it. “We’re gonna check together this time,” she says. “3, 2, 1, go!”

She and Ben press the button at the same time and the number flashes before her eyes.

18 months.

Devi looks back up at Ben. “Oh wow, that’s…” She pauses, carefully weighing her words. “That’s quite some time.”

Ben rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, uh.” He swallows. “I don’t really know anything about you.”

“Twenty questions?” Devi offers, knowing she’s smiling so wide that her eyes are sparkling.

Ben snorts. “That’s rather juvenile.”  
  
“And?” Devi challenges.

He drums his fingers on the table. “And,” he says, grinning at her. “I think I could learn everything I need to know in ten.”

“You’re so on.”

* * *

“So we should just do it, right?”

Ben looks back at Devi and she seems uncharacteristically nervous, twisting her hands together.

He thinks he knows what she’s talking about, but he needs the confirmation anyway. “Do what?”

“Have sex,” Devi answers rather quickly.

Ben steps closer to her. “I mean, yeah, if you want to.”

She nods her head. “I want to.” She twirls a strand of her hair between her fingers. “Do you want to?”

He lets out a deep breath. “Yeah, I do.”

Devi inches in closer, no longer seeming nervous, but instead smug. “Of course you do, you’re obsessed with me.”

Ben wraps an arm around her waist, tugging her flush against him. “You know you’re the one who propositioned me, right?”

Her eyes are wide and dark as she looks up at him, and he thinks she looks even more beautiful. “You’ve wanted me since the day we met,” she says, voice low and breathless.

“You’ve wanted me too,” Ben breathes. “Don’t even try and deny it.” He spreads his palm over her back, brushing the bare skin exposed by her dress, and revels in the way her breath hitches. He feels sparks under his fingertips, like an electric current is zipping between them.

(That’s the best way to describe the tension between them: electric. Kinetically charged and crackling.)

“Ben.”

“Devi.”

She looks a little annoyed, but still just as aroused. “Why aren’t you kissing me right now?”

Ben nods his head. “Good point.”

And then he ducks his head, brings his mouth down to hers, and finally, blissfully kisses her.

She responds immediately and eagerly, hands reaching up to card through his hair. He grasps her even tighter, tugs her even closer, but she still isn’t anywhere near close enough. He nips at her bottom lip, and soothes it with his tongue, feeling something deep and primal in his gut when she whimpers against his mouth.

Suddenly, something in him snaps and he’s grasping roughly at her hips, almost desperately, filled with a burning desire to mark her as his, to leave fingerprints everywhere.

He pulls away from her mouth, and begins pressing open-mouthed kisses to her neck, biting at the skin near her clavicle, as he works with the zipper on the back of her dress, before finally yanking it down and letting it pool at her feet.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, finally taking her in, letting his eyes drift down her body, and she seems to like that for an instant later, she’s surging up to kiss him once more. 

She takes full control this time, biting down on his bottom lip hard, and sweeping her tongue into his mouth when he opens it to her. He tilts his head, kissing her harder when he feels her hands working at the buttons of his shirt, and pulls away for only a split second to shrug it off.

She walks him over to the bed, climbs into his lap, so she’s straddling him, and Ben feels her pulse jump as he begins to kiss a line up her neck. He wants to press kisses _everywhere_.

“Ready to prove it?” His voice comes out low, pitched more like a growl, when she grinds down on him.

Devi stops kissing his shoulder for a brief moment to raise an eyebrow in confusion.

“Provide evidence that you’re an amazing lover?” Ben supplies. A stupid reference to their first date.

Devi’s eyes widen with recognition and she smirks. “I sure am.” She rakes her nails across his chest. “I just expect you to prove your claim as well.”

At that, Ben flips them over so he’s on top, pressing her into the mattress, and tugs her underwear down to her ankles. “I can definitely do that.”

Devi rolls her eyes. “I doubt that.”

Ben leans down to kiss her again, pressing her into the pillows, wanting to burn every single piece of this moment into his memory. 

“I so can.”

“I don’t see any evi— _oh_ ,” she gasps, as he slips a finger inside of her.

“Like that?” Ben says, but the words are muffled as she kisses him again.

“You think you’re so smooth,” she breathes when she pulls away, arching into him.

He smirks. “I am though.”

Later, when they lie curled up against one another, breathless, sweaty, and consumed by a new type of bliss, Ben thinks to himself that they’ve both more than proven their claims.

* * *

She falls in love with Ben the way tides crash on the shore, in waves.

It’s not even something she notices at first, it’s cyclical, and recurring, and reliable, and she lets him into her heart moment by moment.

One such moment is this: him taking her out on a redo of their terrible first date.

She’s a little confused at first, when they arrive at the restaurant and he brings them to their booth— _their booth_ —the restaurant empty except for the two of them. 

“Ben,” she starts, looking around the restaurant. “What are we doing here?”

“I wanted to take you on a redo of our first date.”

Devi looks at him with wide eyes.

“Yeah, same music, same booth.” He bashfully rubs the back of his neck, his cheeks tinting pink. “It wasn’t that hard, I just got Coach to reserve the space.”

She leans up and swiftly kisses his cheek. “Thank you, that’s very sweet.”

Ben beams at her, his smile akin to the moon in the night sky, shimmering, celestial, luminous.

She slides into her seat. “But you’re such a sap.”

Ben sits down across from her. “I’m a sap?” He rests his hand on the table.

Devi cocks her head. “Duh.”

Ben opens his mouth to say something and then promptly closes it. 

Devi reaches for his hand, curling her fingers around his. “You don’t have to stop though,” she says softly “I like it.”

Ben smirks indignantly. “I knew it.”

She pulls her hand away from his. “Don’t be an asshole.”

Ben’s hand surges forward to catch hers, his eyes glinting. “But you _like_ it when I’m an asshole.”

“Do not,” Devi protests.

“Do too.”

Devi sighs, slightly dreamy, she’s so stupidly smitten with him. “Do too.” She curls her fingers more tightly around his and she offers a quick squeeze. “What I don’t like is how early you get up in the morning.”

Ben scoffs. “I don’t get up _that_ early.”

“Ben,” Devi sighs. “Without a work obligation, 8:30 am is early as hell. Not all of us want to get up at the asscrack of dawn.”

“The early bird gets the worm,” Ben suggests, smirking cheekily.

Devi arches an eyebrow. “Is sleeping in like, a foreign concept to you?” She pinches the bridge of her nose. “You wake me up when you get up that early.”

Ben tosses his head back and forth before lifting their joined hands up to his mouth to press a swift kiss to her knuckles. “That doesn’t sound like my problem, David. Maybe you need to start waking up earlier.”

“Maybe so,” Devi answers, she’s not even considering it, but she appreciates Ben’s effort.

Ben chuckles, knowing exactly what she’s thinking just like always. “I know you, Devi. You won’t even consider it.”

Devi feels a smirk take over her face. “You know me hmmm?”

Ben twitches his eyebrow, frowning slightly. “Yes, I do.”

“I bet I know you better than you know me,” Devi challenges.

“Oh, you’re so on.”

Devi slips her hand from his so she can press her palms together. “What’s my favourite book?”

“ _Station Eleven_ , you like how the storylines all converge. My favourite tv show?”

“You tell people it’s _Westworld_ , but in reality, it’s _Rick and Morty_. Mine?”

“ _Brooklyn Nine-Nine_ , and it’s a good show, so I don’t completely disagree. What’s my favourite food?”

“Omakase sushi,” Devi says, wrinkling her nose. “Which is expected with how pretentious you are. My least favourite chore?”

“Enjoying the finer things is not pretentious,” he protests.

Devi laughs, quietly. “Answer the question, Ben.”

“Fine,” he sighs. “Your least favourite chore is washing dishes, which is why you literally never do it.”

“I still bet I can do dishes faster than you,” Devi goads.

Ben furrows his brow. “Did you miss the point where I said you never do them?”

“My point still stands.” She pauses trying to think of another question. “What’s my favourite thing to do with you?”

“Sex,” Ben immediately answers.

She purses her lips. It’s not what she had in mind, but she can’t quite deny it. Sex with him is stupidly good. “You’re not entirely wrong.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “It’s actually looking at the stars. What’s my favourite thing to do with you?”

“Everything,” Devi smirks. “Because I’m amazing and you’re a total sap.”

(Ben is a sap, he really, really is—this dinner date is proof—and Devi never really thought that she would be the kind of person who liked it. But she's realized, a long time ago, that she likes everything about him. There's not anything she doesn't like about him. Not anything at all.)

“You are amazing,” Ben agrees. He leans forward and Devi meets him in the middle for a quick kiss.

“But,” he murmurs, lips just brushing hers. “I think my favourite thing to do with you is _that_.”

Devi reaches up a hand to stroke his cheek.

“Sap.”

The wave crashes on the shore, the moment locks itself in her heart.

* * *

The more Ben thinks about it, the more he thinks ‘falling in love’ is a poor choice of words.

Because he knows he loves Devi, knows he loves her with every beat of his heart, but he doesn’t feel like he ever fell to reach that point. 

Instead, he thinks loving her makes him better, she smooths his more jagged edges and balances him out, she softens and sharpens him all at once.

So he doesn’t fall in love with her, no, he doesn’t lose a part of himself in the process, instead, loving her helps him grow, like a flower blooming toward the sunlight. He _rises_ in love with her.

He’s known he loves her for a while now, but he’s not really sure how to go about telling her. It encompasses his mind whenever he sees her, but he’s waiting for the perfect moment, the exact right time for the words to spill forward. He’s got them on the tip of his tongue, he’s just lying in wait.

It gets hard, though, when he wakes up and sees her like this, wrapped in a warm sweater (his, he thinks), glasses perched on the edge of her nose. He can’t help but love her even more in these quiet moments.

He walks over to where she’s seated on the couch, legs folded under her, as she fills out the daily crossword—in pen, of course. He hands her a cup of coffee, made perfectly to her liking, presses a kiss to her cheek, and casts his eyes on the puzzle for a brief moment.

“You know,” he murmurs. “28 down is _malevolent_.”

Devi snaps her head up at him, looking slightly annoyed. “Ben,” she grumbles. “I love you, but I want to do this on my _own_.” She turns back to her crossword.

The words nearly bowl him over and his mouth falls agape.

Devi doesn’t even look back up at him, seemingly unaware of the weight of her words. Eventually, Ben finds his voice. “You love me?” he rasps.

Devi turns her eyes back up at him. “Uh, yeah, I thought it was a little obvious.” She promptly returns to her crossword. “Now go make us some toast and let me finish this.”

He cups her chin, turning her up to face him, and gives her a peck, then begins pressing butterfly light kisses to every inch of her face.

“Ben,” she giggles, swatting at him. “Stop that.”

“I love you too,” he says before giving her one lingering kiss on the lips. “Now, do I have to make toast?”

“Yes,” Devi answers, swatting at him again and wrinkling her nose when he presses a sloppy kiss there. “Go do it now.”

He tosses Devi another smile as he makes his way towards their kitchen.

He rises higher, higher, higher.

* * *

It gets harder and harder not to think about.

Devi already knows this time with Ben—like all of her time with him—has a limit. It’s easier not to think about this perfect bliss they’ve carved out coming to an end.

But sometimes the end is the only thing she can think about.

And as they get closer and closer, she thinks about it more, and more, and more, and more.

Then suddenly, before she can even blink, it’s the last night. She’s already tired, exhausted really, but she wants to spend as much time with Ben as possible. She wants them to spend every moment left together.

She’s curled into his side, legs tangled with his, and his arm is draped around her shoulder, holding her impossibly close. 

She and Ben are like two constructive waves. Bold, brilliant, powerful and completely _whole_ on their own, but they are stronger together. Devi knows she is her own person without Ben, but she is better with him, they amplify each other.

Ben presses a kiss into her hair. “Hey,” he murmurs.

Devi tilts her head up to face him. “Hey.”

He runs his hand up and down her arm. “A penny for your thoughts?”

Devi snorts. “I like to think my thoughts are worth more than a penny.”

Ben chuckles, tightening his arm around her. “Just tell me what you’re thinking, David.”

Devi kicks the ground with her foot. “You’re going to think it’s stupid.”

“I’m not.”

Devi raises an eyebrow and looks at him quizzically.

“Okay, I might think it’s stupid,” Ben admits. “But that’s never stopped you from telling me anything before.”

She leans up to press a kiss to his cheek. “Good point,” she laughs.

“Just tell me,” he goads.

Devi takes out a deep breath then lets it out and repeats that motion a few times, trying to find the words and the confidence.

“You know what?” Ben says. “It’s okay, you don’t have to tel—”

“I wish you were my final match.” Devi blurts out.

Ben tilts up her chin with his thumb so he can look her in the eyes and presses the softest, most gentle kiss to her lips, then bumps her nose with his. “Me too,” he murmurs.

She feels her eyes growing heavier by the second.

“99.8% though,” Ben mumbles wistfully. “Those odds are insane, and I…” He pauses, takes a deep breath, and continues. “I know you know this, Devi, but you can never be 100% sure of anything, so 99.8% is about as sure as we can get.”

“So wait,” she says, her voice shaking. “You don’t think what we have is _real_?”

She knows it’s not what he means, not at all, knows Ben loves her, knows she loves him, but the insecurity still nags at her, especially tonight, especially since this is the last night they’ll be together. Being paired three times is already anomalous, there’s no way she’s going to see Ben ever again, she just has to accept that.

“No,” Ben says, shaking his head. “Believe me, I love you.”

“I love you,” Devi says, the words tumbling out of her mouth, spilling over like an algal bloom.

“I love you, so so much.” He swallows, clearly blinking back tears. “But, we gotta trust the system. How would you feel if you missed out on your perfect match?”

The thought flashes through her head immediately.

_My perfect match is you._

Because he is, she’s convinced she could never love anyone the system pairs her with as much as she loves him. Her entire heart is his.

But she knows she cannot tell him. Ben deserves more than anything in the world to find his perfect match. If that’s what he wants, then that’s what he shall have, she can’t be the one to take it from him.

Instead of saying anything at all, she rests her head on his shoulder and lets him pull her closer. She wants to stay awake with him as long as she can, but eventually her eyes grow too heavy, fluttering shut.

Then the next thing she knows, she’s blinking awake to the sun streaming through the window. It’s the next morning.

As Devi stands with Ben outside the cabin, watching her timer countdown, watching the seconds tick away, part of her thinks she ought to ask him to stay with her forever, to rebel against the system and climb over the wall. But she knows she can’t.

She thinks back to Ben’s faith in the system, in its numbers, its algorithms, in its code. She knows she cannot ask him to stay, because she cannot be the one to hold him back.

She has to let him go.

So when the timer hits zero, she kisses him one last time, lingering for as long as she can, tells him she loves him, and then… then she lets him go.

The noblest love is that inspiring sacrifice after all. 

* * *

He sees her everywhere.

At the restaurant when he and his matches get dinner, when he goes for a run to clear his mind, in his thoughts, his memories.

(And there are _so many_ memories.)

He laughingly, longingly looks back on the first night he met her, everything he said to her fueled by fiery antagonism.

But she was always there, so Devi had grown on him, grown on him like a weed, vines wrapping around his heart and squeezing so, so tight. He and Devi may not have liked each other at first, but they built something together, and that’s what relationships are about, working with another person to build a connection.

He regrets letting her go more and more, regrets his unwavering faith in the system, in the math, each and every day, because he knows now that a guaranteed 99.8% perfect match won’t be enough for him, not when he let the woman who was 100% the one for him get away.

He may have let her leave, but he won’t let her escape his memories. He thinks about how she’d judge what he wears, every quip she’d make to all the dumb things he says, her smile, her laughter, _everything_.

No matter how hard he tries, he can’t seem to get Devi out of his mind.

(Though in truth, he doesn’t try very hard. He wants her there, so she stays.)

He sees her again on pairing day. He and whoever he’s matched with now—he doesn’t even remember her name, everyone has started to blur together since Devi—are attending the ceremony, when he spots her standing by the refreshments table.

He watches her for a long moment, the way she animatedly chats with a small group of people, and when she laughs, he can practically feel the sound in his chest.

And then she notices him.

She turns away from her small groups and meets his eyes, and the look she gives him is something _more_. He imagines the way Devi looks at him in this moment—and he knows the way he looks at her—is how astronomers look at distant stars. Something far, far, away and forever unattainable, but that they never—beyond reason, beyond logic, beyond comprehension—stop wanting.

(He will never stop wanting her.)

But eventually, she turns away and Ben convinces himself that she must have just been a figment of his imagination.

Every other version of Devi he’s seen recently has been.

* * *

She’s never liked running.

It’s quite frankly, a garbage form of exercise, and before she hadn’t understood why anyone would want to do it.

But recently, it’s been the only way she can clear her mind.

She’d been matched with a string of men after Ben; a man named Dylan, a stoner named Trent, a guy named Jonah who she’s certain was gay, but now Coach was letting her take it easy. She hasn’t been matched with someone for the past three days, and if Devi’s being honest, she’s really enjoying her newfound freedom. Having to make small talk again, and again, and again was exhausting, and practice didn't seem to make it any less painful (or make her any better at it.)

(With Ben, she never had to make small talk. Every conversation she had with him always had meaning.)

She thinks about him a lot. Condemns herself for being a coward and not asking him to stay, because while at the time it may have seemed like the right choice, she regrets it more, and more, and more.

Those regrets have been intensified since she saw him on pairing day. She was with Jonah at the time, plastering on a fake smile and trying to present happiness she absolutely did not feel, when she’d caught his eyes on her.

The way he was looking at her had stolen her breath away. Ben had looked at her like she was the bottomless ocean. Like she was something he wanted to spend his life discovering and exploring, despite knowing that he could never learn all her secrets.

(Deep down, she wants Ben to know all her secrets, she would spill them out for him, and only him, to know if she could.)

But thinking about Ben—thinking about what could have been—makes her ache, and so she runs. Pushes her pain into something else, something physical rather than emotional.

But the emotional pain comes back with full force when Coach speaks. “Devi,” it says, voice crisp, unfeeling, robotic. “Congratulations, your ultimate match has been selected.”Devi stops, takes in a shaky deep breath.

“My ultimate match?” she repeats.

“Your ultimate match,” Coach affirms.

“Do I know them?” she asks.

A stupid, naively foolish part of her hopes that it’s Ben.

“You do not.”

That hope sinks like a stone in the pit of her stomach.

Devi swipes a hand across her forehead. “What happens after I meet them?”

“After you meet your ultimate match, the two of you will leave this place forever.”

But she doesn’t want to leave here forever, not unless it’s with _him_.

“You are, however,” Coach continues, “allowed to say goodbye to a person of your choice.”

She doesn’t even hesitate. “Ben!” she blurts out. “I choose Ben.”

Her device lights up. “Choice confirmed.”

Devi feels a bit giddy at the prospect of really seeing him again. “Wait,” she starts, speaking directly to Coach. “Where are we meeting?”

“Usual booth,” it answers, “7 pm.”

Devi nods. “Thank you, Coach.” Then she tosses it on the ground, and smashes it under the heel of her shoe.

* * *

Ben sees her, and his heart cracks open in his chest, and suddenly, she is _there_ , hands cupping his face, paradoxically tight and gentle as she kisses him.

He kisses her back immediately, hands finding their way into her hair as he pulls her closer, closer, closer. She curls one hand around his neck and Ben feels her press the other against his chest, resting atop his heart.

She smells like coconut and jasmine, and there’s a certain familiarity to kissing her. It’s everything he remembers, everything he’s longed for match after match, but somehow something entirely different, special, unique all at once.

Kissing Devi is like a burst of pure energy, a powerful electric surge, but also opens a door to endless opportunity. There is so much potential, so much possibility, in the kinetic energy of their kiss. 

But it’s also a conversion of energy, all the potential, all the longing, all the yearning, all the wanting, transforming into something tangible, with each press of his mouth against hers, like an object falling from a dizzying height, tumbling through free fall.

(Kissing her is its own type of swan dive, it’s own enticing gravitational pull.)

She opens her mouth to him and he responds with his tongue, touching it tentatively, hesitantly to hers. She tastes like cherries, the tang lingering on his tongue, so impossibly sweet, and her resulting sigh as she pulls him even closer sounds even sweeter. 

He wishes he were fashioned for the vacuum of space, wishes he could spend an eternity kissing her. Wishes he could spend the rest of his days holding her close, and making her sigh, and tangling his hands in her hair. Wishes oxygen, the need to breathe, to take in air, was not a necessity. But alas it is, and eventually, though far sooner than he would like, Ben has to pull away from her.

Her brown eyes glimmer, and he thinks she must have plucked two stars from the sky to make them shine so bright. The way she looks at him is so full of love, so full of adoration, that the words spill forward.

“You’re my perfect match.”

Devi blinks at him. “What?” she breathes.

“You’re my perfect match,” he repeats. “I—I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner, but you’re my perfect match because I choose you.” He tips forward to press his forehead against hers. “I love you.”

“I love you,” Devi sighs.

He doesn’t know how long they have together, but desperate not to waste any of it, he pulls away, reaches for her hand, and tugs her into the booth, so she’s pressed right up against him.

“Coach found my ultimate match,” Devi says the moment they’re sitting.

“Mine too,” he confirms. 

“Ben I—” she starts. “My dad, my dad would have said…” She pauses, the blood draining from her face, eyes widening with horror. “Actually, I—I don’t know what he would have said.”

“Devi,” he murmurs quietly.

“I promised I’d never forget him.” She scrubs a hand down her face. “So w—why can’t I remember anything about him?”

Devi had told him about her dad, a few months into their relationship. It hadn’t been an easy conversation, but it had been necessary, and he’d tried to comfort her in every way he could.

“Ben,” Devi says, pulling him from his thoughts and snapping her fingers. “What’s the earliest thing you remember?”

Ben wracks his brain for a moment, everything is a blur except for… “My first date with you,” he answers. “Why?”

“That’s the earliest thing I remember too,” Devi agrees. “Everything in my life before—before the system, my dad, my mom, my _life_ is just gone.”

“Me too.”

Devi clasps her hands as they begin to shake, resting them on the table and Ben immediately covers her hands with his own. He tries to be reassuring, he does, but he’s starting to get a bit scared too, if he’s being honest.

“I always knew there was something wrong with this place,” Devi says, her voice shaking. “I just had a feeling in my gut, but now I know.” She looks up at him with wide, _pleading_ eyes. “Ben, I think I figured it out, Coach, the system, everyone we’ve met here, it’s all a test.”

He has a gut feeling that Devi is completely correct. “What sort of test?” he asks.

Devi shakes her head. “I don’t know, I don’t know what they’re trying to do to us, but I think I know how to pass it.”

“How?”

“Over the wall,” she whispers. “You and I need to climb over the wall.”

He knows he should probably object, her idea sounds insane, but instead, he finds himself immediately agreeing. “Yeah, okay.”

Devi’s eyes grow even wider. “Why—why did you agree so quickly?”

A few moments ago, Ben may not have known why he agreed, but now the answer is so, so simple. “It’s simple, Devi.” He brushes his thumb across her cheek. “I’d follow you anywhere.”

Devi leans forward and kisses him, soft and sweet, slips her hand into his, and pulls him out of the booth.

They speed out of the restaurant and through the streets, readying for a fight, but no one seems to notice. At one point, a guard steps up to them, a crackling taser in hand, but the moment Devi touches it, the sparks vanish, and everyone around them freezes.

“Told you it was a test,” she murmurs.

They arrive at the wall quickly, and Devi finally lets go of his hand. “I love you,” she whispers, and it makes his heart crack in his chest at how much it sounds like a goodbye. 

(It’s sensible, he tells himself, they have no idea what’s waiting for them on the other side.)

Devi begins to climb the ladder and once she’s far enough ahead, Ben too begins to climb, but the moment both his feet are off the ground, the world around them begins to disappear.

He should be terrified, paralyzed in fear, but instead, something warm and solid settles into his chest. He reaches for Devi’s hand and she curls her fingers tightly around his as they both realize they’re standing on solid ground.

He looks above their heads and spots a glowing aura with a single number: 1. He’s not sure what it means, but he knows he’s not afraid anymore. 

Then, moment by moment, more Devi and Bens begin to appear, increasing numbers floating atop their heads: 2, 3, 4, 5, 6. 

Ben blinks and when he opens his eyes he finds the numbers are well into the five-hundreds.

He sees every version of Devi he can imagine, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, and for each version of her, a version of himself.

The arrivals eventually start dwindling until one final pair joins the crowd, expressions mirroring their own. There’s only one major difference, the number hovering over their head: 998.

Suddenly, a great white light opens above them and eventually, Ben realizes it’s a screen.

It reads: 998 OUT OF 1000 REBELLED. 99.8% MATCH.

He smiles at his Devi, squeezing her hand even tighter, she was right, it had been a test, and they had passed.

* * *

“I can’t believe you convinced me to use this stupid dating app,” Devi moans. “The most I’ve gotten is 45% compatibility, which is like, terrible.”

She’d given in and agreed to go with Eleanor and Fabiola to some local bar, but now that she’s here sipping some cheap red wine—she doesn’t remember what it’s called—she’s starting to regret her decision. 

Eleanor daintily sips her dirty martini. “Please, Devi, you don’t get to complain,” she laughs. “I’ve been unsuccessfully matched with like 20 people.”

Devi snorts. “Because you’ve never given them the time of day.” She snickers. “But rightfully so, no man deserves you.”

“Completely agreed,” Eleanor says, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

“I did meet Eve through the app though,” Fabiola says, taking a sip of her whiskey. “It gets some credit.”

“Your perfect romance with Eve is literally the only reason I ended up giving this a chance,” Devi shoots back.

Fabiola smirks and shrugs her shoulders.

Then, suddenly, her phone lights up.

There’s a man on the screen with brilliantly blue eyes, a perfectly cut jaw, and luscious brown hair. She has a gut feeling she knows him and right under his name are the words: 99.8% COMPATIBLE.

Devi’s no statistician, but she knows 100% is unattainable, so 99.8% is pretty damn high, probably the best she’s ever going to get.

As she catches the eye of the man on her screen from across the bar, she smiles at him. 

And when he smiles back, and begins to make his way towards her, she decides she likes her odds.

**Author's Note:**

> If you like this, please leave a comment, they make a stressed-out second-year STEM student (me) very happy!
> 
> Come say hi to me on Tumblr where I'm @montygreen


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